Aaron Hernandez: From gridiron grace to suicide in a prison cell

The former New England Patriots superstar, serving a life term for a 2013 murder, was found hanging in his prison cell at about 3 a.m. Wednesday.

G. Wayne Miller Journal Staff Writer gwaynemiller

PROVIDENCE, R.I. — The short, troubled life of Aaron Hernandez ended early Wednesday morning when the former New England Patriots star committed suicide in a Massachusetts prison, authorities report. His end, by hanging, was the final violent act in the violent personal story of a man once celebrated for brilliance on a football field.

Hernandez was 27. He leaves a daughter, a fiancée, and a legacy of brutal murder.

FROM 2015: Aaron Hernandez: He had it all, then lost everything

Hernandez was discovered in his cell at about 3 a.m. by officers at the Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center in Shirley, Massachusetts, the Massachusetts Department of Correction said in a statement.

“Mr. Hernandez hanged himself using a bed sheet that he attached to his cell window,” according to the statement. “Mr. Hernandez also attempted to block his door from the inside by jamming the door with various items.”

The department said that after lifesaving efforts were attempted, he was brought to UMass Memorial-HealthAlliance Hospital in Leominster, where he was pronounced dead at 4:07 a.m.

Assistant deputy commissioner of communications Christopher Fallon told The Associated Press that Hernandez was not judged to be a suicide risk. No suicide note was found, Fallon said.

Massachusetts state police said they have launched an investigation into Hernandez's death.

Worcester District Attorney Joseph Early, Jr., said detectives assigned to his office and the Department of Correction are investigating.

Early said Massachusetts' chief medical examiner is conducting an autopsy in Boston to determine the exact cause and manner of death.

Bristol County District Attorney Thomas Quinn prosecuted Hernandez in the 2013 murder of Odin Lloyd. Quinn called Hernandez's death "a shocking and sad end to a very tragic series of events that has negatively impacted a number of families."

Hernandez's lawyer, Jose Baez, said he will conduct his own investigation.

"There were no conversations or correspondence from Aaron to his family or legal team that would have indicated anything like this was possible," he said in a statement.

"Aaron was looking forward to an opportunity for a second chance to prove his innocence. Those who love and care about him are heartbroken and determined to find the truth surrounding his untimely death."

Hernandez's death means his murder conviction is likely to disappear.

Under Massachusetts law, defense attorneys can seek to have convictions vacated when a defendant dies before an appeal is heard.

Removing a conviction after the death of a high profile defendant has precedent in the state, including former Roman Catholic priest John Geoghan, who was convicted of child molestation and who was beaten to death in his prison cell in 2003, and John Salvi, who was convicted of killing two abortion clinic workers in Brookline in 1994 and who committed suicide in prison.

In April 2015, Hernandez was convicted of the murder of Odin Lloyd, who in June 2013 was found dead in an industrial park near Hernandez’s house in North Attleboro, Massachusetts. Lloyd had been shot six times with a .45-caliber Glock.

On Friday, after six days of deliberation, a trial jury found him not guilty of first-degree murder in the 2012 double slaying of Daniel de Abreu and Safiro Furtado. Shayanna Jenkins-Hernandez, his fiancée and mother of his young daughter, testified.

In Dorchester, the Boston neighborhood where Lloyd grew up, a family friend of the Lloyds wondered if the weight of Hernandez's crimes — and of great potential squandered — had finally caught up with him.

"I just think it got to him — the guilt," said Mixson Philip, 55. "Each man has to live with himself. You can put on an act like nothing happened, but you've got a soul. You've got a heart. You can't say you don't think about these things. There's no going around that."

In a sort of cruel irony, President Donald Trump is set to host this year’s Super Bowl-winning New England Patriots at the White House Wednesday.

“We are aware of the reports but I don’t anticipate that we will be commenting today,” Patriots spokesman Stacey James told The Associated Press.

A college teammate who plays now for the Miami Dolphins, Mike Pouncey, wrote on Instagram: “To my friend my brother! Through thick and thin right or wrong we never left each other’s side. Today my heart hurts as I got the worse news I could have imagined.”

“Fall from grace” does not quite describe the Hernandez story, but it hints at the ever-more-stunning turns it took from its beginning to its end, alone in a concrete box.

Hernandez grew up in the old factory city of Bristol, Connecticut, perhaps best known now as the headquarters of sports network ESPN. His childhood friends included petty crooks, and the death of his father when he was a teenager affected him deeply, but his rare athletic gifts seemed to destine him for greatness — and initially they did, starting in high school.

The late Journal Staff Writer W. Zahchary Malinowski, who covered Hernandez’s first trial and wrote several related stories about the former Patriots star, described an uncommon prowess that eventually translated into NFL splendor, cut short with six pulls of the trigger of a large-bore semiautomatic pistol.

“At Bristol Central High School, Hernandez posted staggering numbers on the gridiron,” Malinowski wrote. “In 2005, he caught 67 passes for 1,807 yards, and that same season he had a game against Newington High School in which he caught passes totaling 376 yards.

“Over four years, he had 172 receptions for 3,677 yards. Initially, he was going to follow the footsteps of his father, Dennis; uncle David; and older brother DJ and play football at the University of Connecticut. He changed his mind and selected the University of Florida, one of the top college football programs in the country.”

Hernandez showcased his unusual speed and strength on the Florida field — but off-field, a darker narrative was emerging. During his freshman year, he got into a fight with a bar bouncer, and, The Orlando Sentinel reported, police questioned him about a shooting, though no charges were brought. In his sophomore year, he was suspended from the season-opener after testing positive for marijuana. Then came reports that he had enrolled in Bible study sessions, seemingly on a course to change his non-playing behaviors.

Perhaps he meant to. In 2009, he was awarded the John Mackey Award, given to college football’s best tight end.

The Patriots drafted him in 2010 and he signed a four-year contract with modest financial terms, an indication that the Patriots brass viewed him with some risk.

But in his first season, Hernandez quieted the doubters. He was named a Pro Bowl alternate and was instrumental in the Pats’ run to Superbowl XLVI. And on Aug. 27, 2012, he was rewarded with a five-year, $40-million contract extension that included a $12.5-million signing bonus.

At the Patriots’ annual charitable foundation gala that night, Hernandez teared up when talking about his good fortune, saying it was both a blessing and a lifelong dream

“I just hope I keep going, doing the right things, making the right decisions, so I can have a good life and be there to live a good life with my family,” Hernandez said.

A wealthy young man now — he was just 22 — Hernandez bought a 7,700-square-foot house with backyard pool in Westwood Estates in North Attleboro for $1.3 million. He lived there with Shayanna Jenkins, his high school sweetheart, and their baby daughter, Avielle. He drove a black Hummer and various rental cars, while Jenkins, who later legally changed her last name to Jenkins-Hernandez, drove an Audi wagon.

Journal Sports writer Mark Daniels captured the appeal of Hernandez in a story published after his 2015 conviction for Lloyd’s murder.

READ THE 2015 DANIELS STORY

“It was hard to not be enamored with Hernandez the player,” Daniels wrote. “The 6-foot-2, 250-pound tight end was fun to watch on the field. Hernandez was a different kind of tight end. One who wowed you with spin and juke moves. One who could line up in the slot or out of the backfield, creating matchup problems for anyone that covered him.

Daniels wrote of “a certain charm” that endeared him to many. On Jan. 19, 2012, the eve of the Patriots playing Baltimore in the AFC Championship Game, he spoke of his friend Gronk.

“We’re so close we’re more like brothers,” Hernandez said. “A lot of people say that just to say it, but we really are. We’re really close. We love each other and have a great relationship.”

Like Gronk and quarterback Tom Brady, a new celebrity athlete had taken the stage in New England, and fans responded with adulation. But the double life Hernandez was leading deepened darkly on June 17, 2013, when semi-pro football player Lloyd, 27, who was dating Shayanna Jenkins’s sister, was murdered in an industrial park near Hernandez’s home.

The next day, police searched his residence. On June 26, Hernandez was charged with first-degree murder and several counts of weapons violations. He was held without bail and, except for court appearances, would never leave prison again, until Wednesday morning. The Patriots had long since disassociated the teamfrom him.

The trial of Hernandez began in a Massachusetts court on Jan. 29, 2015, and continued to April 15 of that year, when, on their seventh day of deliberation, jurors convicted him on the murder and two weapons charges. The prosecution had questioned 131 witnesses and entered more than 430 exhibits into evidence by the time the verdict was delivered.

“Terri Hernandez, his mother, and Shayanna Jenkins, his fiancée, burst into tears in the first row of Bristol County Superior Court,” The Journal wrote. “They cried uncontrollably for more than 15 minutes. Both women later rushed from the courthouse without speaking to reporters. Hernandez, his eyes red, mouthed to them: ‘Be strong. Be strong.’ ”

READ ABOUT THE VERDICT

During the trial, Assistant District Attorney William McCauley presented Hernandez’s motivation, the role played by accomplices Ernest Wallace and Carlos Ortiz, and an account of Lloyd’s last moments alive. Hernandez was upset with Lloyd after an encounter in a Boston nightclub on June 14.

“In making his case, McCauley pointed out that Hernandez exchanged 30 text messages with Wallace on June 15 and June 16, 2013. He said that Hernandez no longer trusted Lloyd after the June 14, 2013, incident in a Boston nightclub,” The Journal wrote.

“One text message from Hernandez to Wallace at 9:35 p.m. June 16, 2013 read: ‘Get your ass up here.’ Wallace agreed to drive with Ortiz from Bristol, Conn. — Hernandez's hometown — to Hernandez's house in North Attleboro. They arrived after midnight.

“Shortly after 1 a.m., McCauley said, the three friends drove to Dorchester, picked up Lloyd and drove him back to North Attleboro where he was killed. Prosecutors believe he was murdered around 3:25 a.m. He said that a Hernandez sneaker footprint proved that Hernandez left the car and shot Lloyd.

“ ‘Who’s the leader of the group?’ McCauley said. He said it was Hernandez later leading Wallace and Ortiz into his house where, he said, a surveillance camera captured him brandishing a Glock handgun. McCauley said it was clear that Hernandez was ‘in control’ and led Wallace and Ortiz around.”

Hernandez was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

He returned to court this year to face the charges of murdering Daniel de Abreu and Safiro Furtado. On April 14, jurors in Boston’s Suffolk Superior Court acquitted him of first-degree murder but convicted him of unlawful weapons possession. He was sentenced to four to five years in prison, apart from the life sentence he had for the murder of Lloyd.

“The former New England Patriots tight end choked back tears as the verdicts were read in court,” The Associated Press wrote. “A few moments later, he looked back at his fiancée and nodded somberly as relatives of the victims sobbed loudly. A defense attorney hugged him.”

READ ABOUT THE ACQUITTAL

Suffolk District Attorney Daniel Conley did not agree with the verdict.